Rising Water
by sass box
Summary: The flu sucks. The flu sucks even more when you find yourself tied up in the back of a sea cave as the tide comes in, too dizzy to move and too feverish to grasp the concept of drowning. Mike/Kate. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: **Rising Water  
><strong>Rating<strong>: <strong>PG-13  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: <strong>I don't own any of the characters, just the plot and the words.  
><strong>Summary<strong>:<strong> While sick with the flu, Kate goes on a mission that goes horribly wrong when she ends up captured and tied up in a sea cave. Can she escape before the tide comes in and fills it up? Mike/Kate, season two-ish.********

Author's Note: I haven't written anything in ages. Here's my first Sea Patrol fanfic. I hope you like it, and let me know what you think! I promise the next chapter will be longer.

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><p><strong>Guts Watch: <strong>0300<strong> **

'It's way too early for this,' thinks Kate McGregor exhaustedly. She checks her watch: 0300 on the dot. Rolling her eyes at the horrible sense of timing the world has, she leans over the toilet bowl and heaves again, hoping Nikki can't hear her. Despite the fact that she finished throwing up anything of substance a while ago, her body hasn't stopped trying. She curses the flu for the thousandth time since she woke up feeling nauseous and dizzy around 0100, after only an hour of sleep. Kate decides that after being reduced to dry heaving, she's going back to bed, goddamnit. She hauls herself off the bathroom floor with all her strength and pads back to her rack. By no means a deluxe king-sized bed, it looks very inviting. Quietly turning up the blanket, she crawls underneath it and closes her eyes, trying to will away the nausea.

****Morning Watch: **0715** ****

Rubbing her eyes, Kate is not pleased to discover that the flu didn't magically disappear while she slept. Muttering a string of curses at her aching head, dizziness, low-grade fever, and sore muscles, she drags herself out of her rack and puts on her coveralls and braids her hair with the sleepy precision of a robot. She grabs her mug and head down to the galley for some food, even though the thought of food makes her stomach do a few uneasy cartwheels. She takes a plate of Bomber's scrambled eggs and sausages and pours herself a brew. Sitting down, she toys with her eggs, trying to avoid actually putting them in her mouth. She takes a few tentative bites, but decides not to risk it and tries to discretely dispose of the eggs. Edging around Swain, she tips the remainder into the bin.

"Something wrong, X?" Bomber asks. Evidently she wasn't discrete enough.

"They were delicious. I'm just not very hungry this morning," she says, backpedaling like hell.

"You look a little pale," notes Swain from where he's standing in the corner with Buffer.

Kate brushes a loose piece of hair from her face and tries to look as though everything's normal. "Oh, do I? I'm just a little tired, that's all. Didn't sleep much last night," she says, putting her plate in the dishwasher and hastily heading up to the bridge.

"Morning, X," says Mike cheerfully when she enters. The sun's a little bit too bright on the water; it makes her head ache more. "We've confirmed the stash of drugs on the island during the middle of the night. We saw them leave, so we're going to retrieve the stash. I'd like you to lead the snatch party." He covers his yawn with his palm and blinks rapidly. Clearly, last night was a late one. Kate wonders if he even went to bed at all, then reminds herself that she only got about four hours of sleep herself.

"Yes, sir," she replies, sitting down on Nav's empty chair and giving Key Island a once-over. She takes a small sip of her brew, wincing at the acrid taste, but willing herself to keep it down. She tries to mask her gag as a small cough. Acid burns the back of her throat but she swallows it down.

"All right, X?" asks Mike, shooting a concerned look in her direction. She nods quickly and turns away.

"Do we have leads on the location of the drugs?" she says, hoping to distract him.

"We suspect they're in either the sea caves around the coast of the island, or somewhere more inland, but the caves would make them easier to remove, but the tidal conditions have to be perfect," he says, checking the tide charts Nav left out, "which they will at 1117. The tide will have gone out to its fullest. You'll want to be out of there by 1145 at the latest."

"Right," says Kate. "We'll be over ASAP." She rubs her temples for a few seconds, and then looks up. "I have a bit of a headache, do you mind if I go grab some paracetemol?"

"Sure thing, X," Mike nods, and she gets up, putting out a hand to steady herself, and descends to the wardroom, where she knows Swain will have the bottle of painkillers. She roots around as stealthily as possible until she finds his bottle of Advil cold and flu. She swallows a few with a sip of water and reburies the bottle.

****Forenoon Watch: **0845******

"Away, sea boat," calls Nav, and the RHIB rocks slowly as the crane lowers it into the water.

Kate takes a deep breath and focuses hard on the horizon. Her stomach flip-flops in time with the waves, and she tries to breathe in and out. Swain starts the engine and the smell of diesel hits her like a slap to the face. She turns her head into the fresh wind and swallows, trying to keep her stomach in place. The voices of the others blur into a thick buzz to the beat of the waves. She closes her eyes but that just intensifies the dizziness, so they snap open and take in the sandy beach and thick woods. She scrambles out of the RHIB, happy to have the ground solid under her feet. "Right, Spider with me, searching inland, Buffer and ET, you take the sea caves on this side of the island, Bomber and Swain, the other side," she orders, waiting for Spider to fall into step with her. Their Brownings are cocked and ready. She steps carefully, ahead of Spider. They follow a trampled path, heading up a steady slope. Kate is breathing hard by the time they reach the top. Under her Kevlar vest, she's sweating. She's just glad Spider can't see the patches of sweat she knows are lurking there. All she wants is to lie down, but clearly that's not an option, so she tells herself that the sooner they find the drugs, the better.

Spider cries out, feet sliding out from under him as he tumbles down the hillside. Kate watches helplessly as his ankle twists and she hears a soft pop. Tears of pain fill his eyes, and she watches him topple in a heap against a tree, unable to move. He's lost his pistol somewhere along the way.

"Spider, are you okay?" she yells. "Did you break anything?" She pushes her headset closer to her mouth. "X-ray 82, come in Sierra 82."

Spider untangles himself, wincing in pain. "I don't think it's broken, just a bad sprain, X."

"Can you walk on it?" she asks, batting a mosquito away from her face.

He braces himself, hand on a tree, and tries to stand up, but crumples down again, face twisting in pain. Self-explanatory.

Her radio crackles to life in her ear. "Sierra 82, come in X-ray 82. What's the problem?" Swain's voice is a relief in her ear.

"This is X-ray 82, over. Spider has a badly sprained ankle. He can't walk on it. Get over here, now," she barks. Twigs snap behind her and she whips around. Before she can even react, cold steel is pressed to her temple.


	2. Chapter 2

New chapter! It's a lot longer than the first, and hopefully not too boring. It's also from the perspective of the other parties involved (Swain/Bomber/Spider/Buffer/ET). Let me know what you think!

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><p><strong>Key Island, Forenoon Watch: 1115<strong>

"Come on, Bomber," says Swain, motioning her forward. They make their way back to the RHIB, and then head off into the jungle. The humidity is stifling, a warm blanket against their skin. Swain has no problem following the trail they've trampled. After all, grace and leave-no-trace aren't exactly Spider's strong suits.

"Spider! Spider!" yells Bomber, keeping alert. Her red-brown bob swings against her jaw line, sticking to her neck in the tropical heat. She holds her Browning out in front her, finger poised close to the trigger.

"Bomb, is that you?" Spider's voice is weak and tight with pain. "I'm over here!" A hand waves in the air a few hundred meters away.

Bomber takes off towards him, jumping over a fallen tree, and dodging low-hanging branches. She kneels next to him, checking his head and face. "Spider, what happened?"

His eyes squeeze shut. "They came out of nowhere. They knocked me out and they – they…" his voice falters and he trails off. Bomber drives her finger into his arm, the pang of worry turning into a gut wrenching unease. "They took the X. I didn't see where, because they hit me with something."

"How many were there?" asks Bomber quickly.

He winces. "Three, I think. One knocked me out and two got the X. I think they went that way." He points down the path.

Swain grasps the headset and speaks quickly into it. "X-ray 82, this is Sierra 82. Come in X-ray 82." Static crackles at the other end. "Come in X-ray 82, come in X-ray 82. Over." He adjusts the radio even though he knows it won't do any good. "X-ray 82, radio check." Nothing. He rubs his forehead and then heads over to Spider, gently prying the younger sailor's foot loose. Spider squirms in pain, forehead dewing with sweat.

"We have to get him back to the RHIB," says Bomber. "We can't just leave him here. What if they come back?"

"I know, Bomber," Swain agrees. "Just a second." He speaks into his radio again, "Come in Papa 82, over."

"Swain, what's going on? I can't raise either Spider or the X," comes ET's voice, slightly garbled from the distance.

"We're taking Spider back to the RHIB. Spider says there are at least three armed people on the island, and they have the X. We don't know where they've taken her. Meet back at the RHIB immediately, over," explains Swain, helping Bomber to get Spider upright. The two set him on his feet and turn to head back to the RHIB. Swain drops his Hammersley cap onto the path to mark it, and he and Bomber support Spider back to the RHIB.

"Swain's placed his cap to mark the place," Bomber says as the three head off.

The journey back to the RHIB takes over twice as long as it took them to find Spider. Bomber wishes she could do something for Spider, but she has to keep his boot on to keep the swelling in check. They help him get into the RHIB, as Swain goes about the unsavoury task of radioing Mike and explaining that they 'lost' Kate.

Leaning against the side of the RHIB, Swain pulls at his collar. Bomber sees the patch of sweat on his grey t-shirt. He takes in a deep, calming breath, steeling himself. "Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over."

"Sierra 82, this is Charlie 82, come in," Mike responds immediately. "Did you find the drugs?"

Swain exhales slowly. "No boss. About that… Spider has a badly sprained ankle. I suspect partially torn ligaments, or a grade II sprain. And the X – we lost her."

"What do you mean, you 'lost' her?" asks Mike, voice low and dangerous.

"They grabbed her at gunpoint and knocked Spider out. When he came to, she was gone," Swain explains, shifting from side to side slowly. He braces himself for the explosion.

"Right, I'm coming over there. I'll see you in about thirty minutes," Mike says, "over." His end goes dead and Swain releases his death grip on the side of the RHIB.

"Over here!" Bomber waves as ET and Buffer tumble out of the jungle.

ET could definitely admire the construction of the sea caves if they weren't on a tight deadline. He and Buffer duck into each and every cave, pistols drawn and on high alert. They find nothing, and get only sand in their combat boots for their efforts.

"X-ray 82, this is Papa 82, come in, over," says Buffer, wanting an update from Kate. Static snaps in his ear. "X-ray 82, come in over. Radio check." Nothing.

"Papa 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over." ET almost trips over himself in his haste to respond, "Sierra 82, this is Papa 82. Swain, what's going on? I can't raise either Spider or the X." ET kicks the sand, sending it flying in their faces.

"Right, we're on our way, over." Buffer turns to ET. "Let's go!" The two take off, cutting through the jungle as fast as they can. They're breathing hard by the time they spill out of the jungle to the other beach. It's a relief to see Swain, Bomber, and Spider.

** Hammersley, Forenoon Watch: 1139**

Mike knows that the Hammersley is just over the horizon from Key Island. He wishes Charge could use the EOD to track the party's progress there, but it's too far away. He taps his fingers impatiently against the edge of the console, and stares out at the empty ocean. With just over an hour until the tide goes out to its fullest, he knows time is of the essence.

"Sir." Nav come up behind him and places a hand gently on his arm.

"Yes, Nav?" Mike turns his head to look at the young woman, who smiles up at him.

"Just because they haven't radioed yet doesn't mean anything bad, you know," she advises, turning back to the radar screen, searching for contacts. It remains blank.

"Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over." Swain's voice fills the bridge, and Mike jumps up and grabs the radio as fast as he can.

"Sierra 82, this is Charlie 82, come in," he responds. "Did you find the drugs?" He crosses his fingers in his lap. The tide turned 20 minutes ago, and he's starting to feel anxious. If the drugs are in the caves, which he has every reason to suspect they are, time is running out. He hears Swain's exhale crackle through the radio, and tenses automatically. That can't mean anything good.

"No boss. About that… Spider has a badly sprained ankle. I suspect partially torn ligaments, or a grade II sprain. And the X – we lost her."

Mike's breath catches in his throat and sweat sprouts on his temples. He reaches forward to rub the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean, you 'lost' her?"

"They grabbed her at gunpoint and knocked Spider out. When he came to, she was gone," Swain explains.

Mike makes a snap decision. He's going over there. He has to rescue Kate. "Right, I'm coming over there. I'll see you in about thirty minutes," he says, "over." He slams the radio back and turns around. "Charge, RO, with me. Now!"

Five minutes later, the three are sitting in the other RHIB in full Kevlar, ready to go. Mike taps his foot impatiently against the bottom of the RHIB as Charge guns the engine and they roar off towards Key Island.

As soon as the RHIB gets close enough, Mike leaps out of it. He lands, water soaking through his boots, and runs up the beach to where Bomber, Swain, ET, Buffer and Spider are clustered.

"RO, you'll take Spider back to the ship. The rest of us are going to find the XO. Charge, with me. Swain, ET, search the other side of the island. Buffer, Bomber, search inland," he instructs. He and Charge turn and head along the what's left of the beach. The tide has swallowed the majority of the sand. They duck into the caves, shining their flashlights in. The beams scour the darkest crevices, but all are empty.

"X! X are you here?" Mike yells, voice becoming hoarse. The tide is lapping at their ankles, each wave inching up the shoreline. Panic is fluttering in Mike's stomach, and there's a bitter taste in his mouth. The sand squishes under his boots, and he moves forward numbly.

Swain and ET round the northern point of the island, discovering a small, secluded beach. On the other side, there's a small pile of brush, slightly past the high-tide mark. To a passerby, it might resemble dropped leaves, but to Swain and ET, it's a badly concealed tender.

"Look! There!" Swain points down the beach, signaling to ET. The two take off on a sprint down the beach, sand flying under their feet. They reach the tender a few minutes later. They quickly strip off the leaves and bracken, but there's nothing to identify it, just some fishing line and tackle stowed carelessly in the bottom. Shouting voices drift down from the woods.

"Quickly, over here," Swain says in a hushed voice, gesturing to ET, who's still squatting by the tender, fiddling with it. "As far as we know there's no evidence of drugs. They could be just fishermen."

"Yeah right." ET's voice is strained as he reaches up. He quickly bolts up and recovers the tender. Swain watches, arms folded, impatient.

"Come on, ET," he says.

ET brushes the sand and leaf bits off his hands. He and Swain hurry down the beach, looking around frantically for cover. They duck behind a boulder, and watch as two men stumble down the path, trying to navigate the rocks without tripping. Swain scans them for drugs, but sees nothing.

"Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in over," he says softly into his mic. "This is Swain. We have a contact on this side of the island. No evidence of drugs, they could be just fishermen, but I doubt it. We're too far out." He looks to ET for the coordinates, and relays them to Mike.

"We're going to stay here until we can get away without them seeing us," adds ET. "Then we'll follow them and see what we can find out. Any sign of the X?"

"Sounds like a plan. Keep me updated," says Mike, voice terse. "No sign of her yet, but we're searching."

"Right., over." Swain snaps off his radio, and props himself up to see over the boulder. The two men are heading to the other side of the island, away from Mike and Charge.

"Let's move," says ET, standing and moving close to the ground, Swain following him. They move up into the jungle and follow from there, rounding the promontory on the north side of the island. When the beach spreads out in front of them, the two men are gone.

"Where did they go?" asks ET. "We didn't compromise our position, did we?"

Swain shakes his head. "No, we didn't, I don't think." He frowns, brows puckering as he considers it. "No, I'm sure we didn't."

ET shrugs. "Might as well wait here and see if they reappear." He switches on his radio, positions it closer to his mouth, and speaks into it, "Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over."

"Sierra 82, what's happening?" asks Charge.

"We lost our contacts," says ET, face dimming. "We rounded the point and they were gone."

"Dammit!" Charge says. "I'll tell the boss." There's a silence, and then his voice distantly repeats the information to Mike. Swain hears the CO swear loudly and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sierra 82, Charge just informed me of the situation. Hold your position; let me know of any changes. No sign of the X, over."

Swain sighs and sits back on his heels. "I guess we're in for a bit of a wait, then. Keep your eyes peeled," he says. He gazes out to sea for a minute, and there's a flash of panic as he realizes how much the tide has come in. The beach is shrinking rapidly. He looks up to the brilliant blue sky and says a small prayer for the X. Time is running out fast.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all! I hope you liked that last chapter, even though it was kind of a filler. Now we find out what's happened to Kate. Reviews are love. ;)

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><p><strong>Key Island, Inland, Forenoon Watch: 0954<strong>

Kate freezes instinctively, even though the coolness feels good against her heated skin. She feels her pistol being pulled from her grasp. She wants to stop them, to struggle, but she can't. A shadowy figure darts past her and scrambles lithely down the hill. She sees Spider being clubbed with a pistol and he falls back, unconscious. Her radio crackles to life, but she feels it being wrenched away and watches it smash on the forest floor.

"Don't move," whispers a voice in her ear, the malice sending shivers down her spine. Her unknown captor slips an arm around her neck, holding her tightly from behind, and preventing her from struggling. She's jerked roughly forward and spun around. She can't breathe, and the pistol jabs into her side again, knocking the wind out of her. She retches and when her captor yanks her forward, she lurches forward and vomits on his feet. He jumps back in disgust and cuffs her, sending her flying.

"Get up," hisses the voice behind her, prodding her forward with a gun pressed to her ribs. She stumbles to her feet and keeps moving, blindly. The jungle blurs around her and she can barely see. Her stomach rises and she spits mouthfuls of bile to the forest floor. She staggers sideways and almost falls, but a hand is shoved roughly against the small of her back, and another hand wraps itself tightly around her upper arm with enough pressure to cause bruises. She pulls weakly at the fingers on her arm, trying to loosen them. Her fingers are slippery with cold sweat, and slide on the other person's skin. She can't get their fingers off, so she lets her arm slide to her side.

"What's wrong with you?" spits the voice.

"Flu," she slurs, voice thick. Her mouth tastes awful, and she wants some water. Her knees bend, contacting the leaves. She crawls forward, but falls face first. The voice swears and picks her up, wedding style. Her head droops against his chest.

"Christian, what the hell are you doing?" asks a rougher voice.

"Making better time," growls the first voice. "We have to get out of here. Where there's one Navy, there's always more. You go get the speedboat ready, I'll take care of her."

"What are you planning?" asks the gravelly voice. "Why don't we just take her with us?"

"Too much trouble."

"Christian," whines the gravelly voice, "we'll never get out of here."

"Shut up!" snaps Christian, hitting Harry's arm with enough force to make him step backward and stop talking.

Kate pries her eyes open and sees that Harry is the redhead dressed in black. He's a little on the short side, and small, wiry. She wonders dreamily if she could take him out. Her eyes slide closed again and she lets Christian carry her. Time melts around her and when she comes around next, her skin is blazing. She moves to try to loosen her Kevlar vest, fingers fumbling blindly with the clasps and straps holding it in place.

Christian stumbles over a root and swears loudly, jolting her. "Stop moving!" he whispers, voice sharp in her ear. She groans and snakes her arm around his lower back, the world tilting around her. Just as suddenly, it steadies and Kate opens her eyes again, with some difficulty. There's a distant glint of sun on sea, but she can feel a breeze on her face. It cools her burning skin slightly, and dries the sweat on her cheeks. Christian stops, and she watches curiously as Harry ducks into a camouflaged shelter and pulls out a length of rope and a backpack.

"Get down." She feels herself being dropped and puts her feet out tentatively, hoping to catch herself. She falls anyway, feeling the rocks bite into her palms, leaving gravel loosely embedded in the skin. Blood gathers in the scratches. She wipes her stinging palms on her fatigues. When Christian turns away to check the contents of the bag, she drops her Hammersley cap to the ground. She stumbles over to another tree, and leans against it, trying not to give in to the fever.

"Hey, navy girl!" Harry snaps his fingers, drawing her attention to his face. The sound echoes in her brain. Her eyes track his fingers for a moment. "Come here." He holds out a small crate and she takes it. The two grab her arm and tug her along. She starts walking again, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. She has no idea how long it's been since they got to Spider, or since she was kidnapped.

Eventually they reach another, more secluded beach. Kate pauses to put down the crate and brush her sweat-matted bangs from her face.

"Come on," barks Christian, "we don't have all day." He waves his hand urgently and pulls the pistol from the waistband of his cargo shorts and levels it at her chest. She starts and heads towards him. The three load the runabout and haul it underneath some palm fronds.

"What do we do with her?" asks Harry, scratching his head. "Are we going to kill her?"

Christian cocks her Browning absentmindedly. "We should. But they'd find her body and get after us. If they can't find her then they'll be searching for her and that'll buy us more time."

"The sea caves," says Harry. "We can take her into one of them and tie her up. The tide'll come in and oops…" He shrugs and makes an innocent face. "No blood on our hands that way."

"Hmm," says Christian considering it. "That might just work. Navy!" He motions her closer and she walks towards him, dreamlike. The colours are so vivid they send little stabs of pain through her eyes. Harry takes out the length of rope and grabs her hands. He pins them behind her back and she struggles, legs kicking frantically. Her knee contacts his groin and he falls with a shout of pain and a groan. She kicks him away and begins to run blindly. A gunshot rings out and she falls instinctively, tucking herself in behind two boulders, breathing heavily. She holds her breath and tries not to make a sound. Maybe they'll go away. She presses her face to the granite, hoping for some relief. Instead, the rock is warm. New sweat beads on her skin.

"Damn bitch!" Christian kicks the sand with the toe of his sneaker. "Why can't you do anything right?" He hauls Harry to his feet by his collar, bringing his face close to the shorter man's. "Why the hell did you fire? They'll know where we are now! The entire damn island could hear that, you numbskull!" He shakes Harry viciously and then thrusts him away. Harry sprawls on the sand, momentarily stunned.

Christian steps over his legs and heads towards the boulders. She can't have gotten far. For all of her breath-holding and curling into the smallest ball possible, he finds her in a few minutes. "What have we here?" he hisses, as he ducks down by the boulder where she's hiding. His breath is rancid; Kate's stomach turns. His eyes are cold, like stones, and she wonders if he's going to just shoot her. "Up." It's an order. The Browning – _her_ Browning – presses into her back and his hands drag her to her feet. The leg of her coveralls pulls loose from her boots and the granite scrapes her bare skin. She sways, and he prods her forward and gunpoint. Her breath hitches and she leans forward, waiting to throw up. She dry heaves loudly a few times, and Christian jumps back, but nothing comes up. Kate runs her tongue over her dry lips and wipes her mouth on her sleeve, even though nothing happened. "Do you have any water?" she rasps, tongue thick in her mouth.

"Just give her some," calls Harry, who has gotten to his feet. He trots over to the backpack and pulls out a water bottle. He tosses it to Christian, who makes no attempt to catch it. Kate reaches down for it, unscrews the lid, and lifts it to her lips. She swills and spits onto the sand, and tosses it back to Harry.

"Let's go," says Christian impatiently. He begins to herd her down the beach. Kate walks because she has no choice. Her heart is racing in her chest and the fever has her firmly in its grip. Even in the tropical heat, she shivers, feeling chilled. Underneath her coveralls, t-shirt, and Kevlar with extra plates, she's cold. She walks and walks and walks until she notices caves sprouting out around the cove. They're dry and empty now, but when the tide comes in they become completely submerged. She turns around to cough, and as she covers her mouth, the quickly drops her can of mace on the sand, quickly kicking it into a boulder's shadow. There's a hand shaking her shoulder and his face slides into view. "You done yet? I don't have all day!" He spits on the sand, just missing her formerly shiny boot, and she wishes more than anything for her pistol.

Christian guides her carefully along the beach, before choosing a cave as far out on the point as possible. She breaks away and forces herself to retch again. Christian turns away like she knew he would, and slips off her dog tags and slips them into her palm. She moves closer to the cave and opens her palm. The silver snakes to the sand, curling soundlessly there. She kicks a little sand over it, and he prods the barrel of the pistol into her ribs. He shoves her into the chosen cave, and she stumbles a little but doesn't protest. There's no fight left in her.

Dark. It's so dark. Once a few meters inside, the light vanishes, like it's been sucked into a black hole. Kate puts one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other until they reach the back. Christian pushes her forcefully, and she finds herself with her face to the damp rock, while he pulls her hands loose and ties them firmly behind her back. The warmth of his skin on hers nauseates her even more. He's being gentle with her. It's disgusting. Her stomach heaves but she forces it down. She wants to get out of here alive, not with a bullet in her head or ribs.

Her skin is white-hot against the cave wall. The water dripping down from the ceiling feels good on her cheeks. She almost wishes the tide would hurry up and come in. The water would evaporate on her flaming skin.

Somebody scuffs the sand outside the cave, their shadow plunging the entire cave into darkness. "Christian, you in here?" Harry calls, advancing on them with a machete and a lighter.

Christian answers with a guttural grunt of assent, as he lashes Kate's ankles together. She watches him, feeling very disconnected from what's happening. She wants to kick him, to twist free, but when she tries to move, nothing happens. Her brain feels very sluggish, so she watches his fingers twist through half-closed eyes.

Harry flicks the lighter on and off as he bends down close to her. She bemusedly watches his face slip in and out of focus, the flickering light throwing weird shadows on the dripping rock.

Christian pushes himself off the cave floor and looks around. "Time to go," he says. "We'll roll a boulder in front of the cave, so even if they do find the cave, they'll never be able to get her out in time." He strolls out of the cave, sure of himself. "Are you coming?" He turns, and Harry nods.

"Look," Harry says, "I'm just in this for the money. I don't want to kill anyone." He cuts through the rope that binds her ankles but leaves her hands tied to the rock. He flicks off the lighter and all but runs out of the cave.

A few minutes later, Kate watches through blurring vision as a rock eclipses the cave entrance and she is alone in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's a longer chapter for you all! Hopefully I'll get this story done before I leave in a week for camp. Thanks for the reviews you guys; they encourage me to keep writing. Keep it up! :)

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><p><strong>Key Island, Sea Cave, Forenoon Watch: 1120<strong>

Kate stares blankly at the boulder enclosing her. She's never been claustrophobic, hell, she lives on a patrol boat for crying out loud, but the darkness and fever are making her feel trapped. She gasps for air, shifting over to one side as she bends over, torso convulsing as she heaves up strings of bile onto the cave floor. She tries to catch her breath, the air slipping away fluidly, thick in her lungs. 'Must get out of here,' she thinks to herself, the thought filling up her empty brain. Her head is spinning and she wants to lie down. There's more give on the rope than she originally thought, and she slides to the cave floor, pressing her cheek to the sand. It's cool and slightly damp under her skin. Her world tilts on its axis, and she is powerless to stop it. A rush of heat overwhelms her body, and she lies there, finally admitting defeat to the fever.

Water. Cold. Kate comes around to cool water lapping at her cheeks, soaking the ends of her ponytail and matting her hair to her cheeks in crusty strings. The icy touch of the water snaps her awake as effectively as a coffee. She struggles to sit without her hands, her abs screaming in pain at the movement. Once upright, she leans against the cave wall. Her head throbs, and the darkness whirls around her. She contemplates lying back, but realizes that sitting up was too much effort. She stands with considerable difficulty, and takes a tentative step. The sand tilts under her feet, the world slipping on its axis. Kate scrabbles to stay vertical and loses the battle. Sand wedges itself under her nails as she claws at the ground. She rolls over and stares up at the melting puddle on the ceiling. She's so tired, but she forces herself to sit up. Kate drags herself back to the wall, and lets her head loll against it as her eyes close.

When she wakes up next, the water is licking at the toes of her boots. The dampness from the sand is seeping into her uniform. She watches with detached fascination as little wavelets seep in from between the boulder and the cave mouth. What seems like only a few minutes later, the water's at her ankles. That realization sparks her like she's brushed her finger against the charger of her laptop while pulling it from her power bar, buzzing her entire body. The tide is coming in. She has to get out of here. Straightening up, Kate arches her back against her bonds. She twists her wrists back and forth, trying to rub the rope against the rock behind her. It cuts into her wrists but she keeps trying. The water soaks over the tops of her boots and into her thick socks. It spreads up her pant legs and soaks its way up. Cold tendrils encircle her waist and crawl up to the edge of her Kevlar vest. She shivers once, and can't stop, despite the fact that it feels like her skin is on fire. Sweat dews her skin in a thin sheen and she shivers harder, trying to free herself. The fibers of the rope embed themselves in her skin and she whimpers in pain, lips trembling. Her muscles are quivering in the freezing water, which has crept up to the bottom of her ribcage. The heat is dissipating quickly now, leaving her muscles cold and sore. She can feel her skin crinkle as goosebumps rise on her arms and legs. Her lower back aches from the slight spasms shaking her body, and she really, really wishes that she could reach back to massage away the tension. She gives an experimental twist again, feeling the cold water against her skin as it rises with the tide. The rope may be sodden, but it holds firm. Kate digs in her heels and scrabbles along the sand, kicking up silt in the water. She watches it drift back to the bottom through slitted eyes, teeth clicking together as she shivers convulsively. She drops her head to rest on her chest and closes her eyes, curling up as tightly as possible for warmth.

**Key Island, Inland, Afternoon Watch: 1210**

"Ow." Bomber looks up from where her foot has collided with something hard, eyebrows puckering. She bends down and brushes the leaves away from the object she stubbed her boot against. It's Spider's pistol. Her eyes widen. "Buffer!" She scoops up the Browning and motions him towards her.

"Charlie 82, this is Bravo 82. We just found Spider's pistol and Swain's cap," she reports. "We also found signs of a struggle, but no blood."

Buffer is surveying the area. He has Swain's cap already. "Bomber, look," he says, pointing to the ground. She moves towards him, and looks down.

"That's gross," she says, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"What's gross, Bomber?" asks Mike. She forgot her radio was still on. Closing her eyes, Bomber rubs her hand across her forehead before readjusting her baseball cap.

"We just found evidence that someone, probably the X, vomited," she says. "It's not bloody or anything, just looks like normal navy breakfast – coffee and eggs. If you have time, ask Nav if she heard anything last night. X didn't look so good at breakfast."

"That's lovely, Bomb, and I'll ask Nav," sighs Mike. "Continue with your search, alright? Follow the trail and keep me updated."

"Will do, boss," says Bomber, tearing her eyes away from the splatters on the leaves. She pulls off her cap and slaps it on her head again, something she usually does when nervous. "Let's go, Buff."

**Key Island, North Beach, Afternoon Watch: 1220**

Mike turns to Charge. "We have good news and bad news."

Charge looks up from where he's busy tracking along the sand, shining his torch into the smaller caves and pauses. "What's that, boss?"

"Bomber and Buffer found Spider's pistol and Swain's cap. They're on the right track. Bad news is, they also found a pile of vomit. Looks like the X was sick before they took her away," he says, blue eyes serious. "Apparently the X might have the flu. Great." He rolls his eyes. This day just gets better and better. He really doesn't want to think about Kate feverish and sick, tied up somewhere. He can't get the image of Kate bent over, dry heaving, struggling against her bonds while the water flows in. He can practically hear her retching, the sound dry and rough. He sees her cough and try to wipe her lips. A rush of cold courses through him, momentarily turning his veins to ice.

"Sir?" Charge's eyes ask a silent question.

"I'm fine," he says, clearing his throat, hoping to swallow his panic. He turns his radio on and speaks into it quickly, the words tripping over themselves so fast he wonders if Nav can understand him. "Delta 82, this is Charlie 82, come in."

"Charlie 82, this is Delta 82." Nav's voice is crisp and sweet, but Mike can detect a hint of repressed strain. "What's going on, sir?"

**Hammersley, Afternoon Watch: 1223**

Nav can't stop pacing. Five steps, turn, five steps, and turn. She raises her binoculars every five steps to look out at the empty sea. There's no sign of the speedboat, which is a good thing as far as she's concerned, because they don't have the resources to chase it right now. She exhales slowly, puffing out her cheeks. She turns to scan the radar screen, which remains thankfully blank. "RO, hear anything?" she asks.

The slim, dark-haired officer whips around and glares at her. "No. That's the third time you've asked in ten minutes."

Nav puts up both hands in the surrender sign and rolls her eyes. "I was just asking. Keep me informed." Turning away before he can nod, she clenches her fists at her sides until her fingernails bite into her fleshy palms.

"Delta 82, this is Charlie 82, come in." Her blue eyes light up as the radio comes on. She leaps forward and grabs the radio to respond, "Charlie 82, this is Delta 82. What's going on, sir?"

"Buffer and Bomber are on the right track. They found Swain's cap at the appropriate place along with Spider's pistol. They also found vomit, which, according to Bomber, is probably the X's. Do you know if she's sick?" Mike asks.

Nav twirls the end of her sleek ponytail between her fingers. "I don't think so, sir. The XO doesn't _get_ sick."

"Are you sure you didn't hear anything last night?" Mike presses, and then it clicks, like puzzle pieces sliding into place. She slaps her palm to her forehead.

"Shit!" It slips from between her lips before she can stop it, and her cheeks flush red. As a general rule, she doesn't swear. At least, not out loud. "Yeah, I did. I heard somebody dry heaving last night, at around 0300. I just dismissed it. I didn't think it was her. And then she didn't eat at breakfast and I ran into her getting painkillers for a headache. Sir, she has the flu or something and she's out on that island!" Nav feels panic sweat prickle her underarms.

"Right. Well, I'll let you know when we find out anything else, over," Mike says, and the line goes dead.

**Key Island, North Beach, Afternoon Watch: 1230**

"Can you move over?" ET asks, jostling Swain slightly as he shifts to get more comfortable.

"No, I can't," Swain responds in a whisper, placing his hand on the rock behind them to steady himself. He lurches slightly before catching himself, scraping his palms on the rough surface.

ET twists around to look over at Swain. "Look, it's been like 40 minutes and haven't reappeared. I honestly don't think they're going to. Besides, it's cramped here and we could be helping find the X," he says, shoulders slumping.

"You have a point," says Swain, reaching for his radio. "Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over."

"Sierra 82, this is Charlie 82, come in," says Mike. "Have you seen the two men?"

"Look, it's been 40 minutes and we've seen nothing. Can we work our way down the beach?" Swain says, readjusting his position and trying to massage the pins and needles out of his leg.

"All right. They've probably taken an alternative route. Head towards my position, over." There's a pause, and then a hiss of static in Swain's ear. He turns the headset away from his mouth and pushes himself to a standing position. "Let's go."

ET stands too, and the two men creep out from their position and head down the beach. Eventually, they run out of sand and are forced to wade into the water while they check the caves. Waves run over the tops of their boots and the wool of their socks squelches under their feet with each step. Each footstep submerges their legs farther in the ocean. It's a reminder of the danger Kate is in. A wave slaps against ET's knees and sends shivers creeping down his spine. He pulls out his torch and switches it on, flipping it nervously in his hand. His other hand reaches up to tug on his gelled curls, damp with sweat.

"ET, focus," says Swain calmly. His hand finds its way to ET's arm and he gives the younger sailor a small pat on the bicep and a sympathetic smile. They approach the first cave and quickly check it out. ET gets down on all fours and crawls inside, soaking the front of his coveralls. It's dark inside, and he flashes his torch around the inside, calling out for Kate. The cave is empty, which doesn't surprise him. They wouldn't put her in the first cave. It would be too easy. He backs up slowly and crawls backwards out of the cave. Swain helps him to his feet and they examine the next cave, which turns up empty as well. After seven caves turn up empty, ET is beginning to give up, but he still heads into the next cave. It's empty too, as is the one after it, and the one after that. ET punches the cave wall furiously after heading into the eleventh consecutive empty cave, leaving pieces of skin and fragments of his anger behind. He only succeeds in bruising his knuckles and drawing blood from shallow scrapes.

"ET, we'll find her. The X is tough. It's going to take more than water and the flu to stop her," Swain says, pulling ET gently out of the cave. Before ET can straighten, he freezes.

"What's that?" he asks, reaching one hand into the water to scoop out an orange plastic cylinder. He proffers it to Swain, who takes it and inspects it carefully, peering at it curiously.

"It's mace," Swain replies, tone edged with surprise. "It must be the X's. I think we're on the right track. She must have dropped it."

"Charlie 82, this is Sierra 82, come in, over." ET can't fight the small smile edging onto his face as he radios Mike, who responds immediately.

"Sierra 82, this is Charlie 82, come in," says Mike quickly, "sit rep?"

"Boss, we found a can of mace. It's probably the X's. We're just around the point from you. We'll be over there as soon as we've gone through all the caves," ET says, feeling hopeful. "See you soon, Sierra 82, out."

Swain speeds up his pace, shining his torch eagerly into every cave. "X, X," he calls out, "where are you?"

Making their way down the beach, it only takes them ten minutes to meet up with Mike and Charge.

"We found the can of mace back there, about 200 meters back," Swain explains by way of a greeting, pointing back up the beach. "It was under a boulder, like she'd tried to kick it out of sight, but hoped we'd find it."

"Lucky for her, we did," ET adds, eyes brightening up with a spark of hope. "If you ask me, it looks like they took her down the beach from where we found the boat. She must have dropped her can of mace in hopes we'd find it. She has to be around here somewhere!"

"If they wanted to drown her, the easiest place would be out on the point," says Charge, gesturing to where the sandbar is currently underwater. "The tide would get to her first. It's likely X dropped something else too, so keep alert for things on the bottom."

Mike nods his assent. "Let's head out as far as possible on the point and search the caves there." He motions the team forward and moves as quickly as possible, trying not to kick up silt in case it masks something important, a clue to Kate's survival. His eyes flick down to the water, and his heart jolts when he realizes that it's halfway up his thighs. The cold is refreshing against the heat on his body, but it can't wash away the sweat soaking through his gray undershirt and seeping into his coveralls under the Kevlar. Drops bead on his temples and he can't be bothered to wipe it away. His body is numb with shock, and his limbs feel heavy and useless.

Charge slogs through the water, focused on the sand beneath his feet. He flashes his torch in between the crevices between the boulders, until suddenly, there's a glimmer on the sand, just inches from his toes. His breath catches loudly, suddenly rough in the back of his throat. "Boss," he calls, "I found something." Without hesitation, he pushes up his sleeve and plunges his hand into the water. A wave rushes up behind him and curls over his skin. The chain slips out of his grasp and slides back to the sand, the movement snaky as his fingers close around water. Sand grits against his skin and he reaches down again, this time managing to grab the chain. He opens his palm and looks down to see silver dog tags nestled against his skin. With slightly trembling fingers, he flips over the tiny metal oblongs. He knows full well what they are and who they belong to. He looks up and meets Mike's eyes. "They belong to the X, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

Almost done! I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it. Please read and review.

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><p><strong>Key Island, Inland, Afternoon Watch: 1245<strong>

The humidity is stifling under the thick canopy of trees. In the diffused light, Buffer feels drops of sweat accumulating on his upper lip and on his neck. He lightly rubs the tension out of the back of his neck with his fingertips and sighs, the air ruffling the stillness of the leaves. "See that? It's a temporary shelter." He jogs over to the shelter with Bomber hot on his heels and immediately begins scouring the area. He flips over the palm fronds and rifles through the leaves on the ground, but there's nothing there. Around the back of the ramshackle shelter, Buffer searches for anything. Shimmying up the tree directly behind the shelter, Buffer goes through its foliage, even though he doubts the kidnappers were smart enough to hide anything up in the trees. "Nothing up here," he calls down to Bomber, as he drops down again.

"Nothing down here either, Buff," she replies, huffing out a sigh. "Wait…" Falling to her knees, she frantically clears away the leaves and dirt. Her fingers scrape against something hard and she digs faster. Wiping the dirt away, she finds herself staring at a small, rectangular box. Running her fingertips gently along the sides, she feels for a lock.

"A box?" Buffer squints down at it. "Are you sure it's not booby-trapped?" He taps his fingers against the top, listening to the hollow tapping.

"It's empty," Bomber says, frowning. "Or it appears to be. Can we get it open?"

Buffer reaches into his pocket and extracts a small Swiss Army knife. He flicks it open and slides the blade into the lock. He twists, and it pops open with a small click. Quickly removing the broken lock, he opens the box slowly, placing himself between Bomber and the box. In the bottom, there's a small piece of paper. Buffer opens it, only to be confronted with a hastily scrawled message in black ink. "By the time you find this, we'll be long gone," he reads aloud. "Damn it! Charlie 82, this is Papa 82, come in, over."

"Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, come in. Sit rep, over," Mike says, voice laced with tension.

"We found a locked box with a message inside," Buffer says, "It says, 'by the time you find this, we'll be long gone.'"

"It looks like it's a decoy, designed to waste time while allowing for their getaway," Bomber adds, twisting her fingers nervously.

"Right, they're taunting us. Continue on the path," Mike says, "over."

"Over," says Buffer, as static crackles in his ear. "You hear that, Bomber? We're continuing."

"What a waste of time," she says, scuffing her boot against the ground. He shoulders slump in disappointment. "They said it themselves: they're long gone. We're not going to find them."

Buffer pats her on the shoulder, trying to muster a smile for her sake. He knows full well how Bomber gets when she's upset or worried, and wants to avoid it at all costs. "Hey now, don't say that. We'll find them, but only if we focus."

She gives him a small, watery smile and lets him pull her to her feet. "I know they'll find her Buff, but I'm scared for her. She's usually so smart and tough, but she's sick," she says. "The flu can seriously bring anyone down."

"She'll be fine," Buffer says. "Come on, let's go further down the path."

Bomber nods and looks around. She follows Buffer down the path with a sinking heart. They've only been on the path for about 10 seconds when Buffer stops and picks something up. She hurries over to him and looks down at the object in his hands. She looks down at it and feels like she's been punched in the gut. A small gasp issues from between her lips despite her attempts to stop it. "It's her cap," she breathes.

Buffer turns around and watches as the heat-induced flush drains from her cheeks. "This means we're on the right track," he says quietly. He taps his radio on. "Charlie 82, this is Papa 82."

"Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, come in, over." Mike sounds even more edgy, so Buffer decides to keep it shorter and sweeter.

"We found the X's baseball cap just a few seconds walk down from the shelter. We're continuing down the path, over," Buffer says crisply.

"Continue, over."

**Key Island, Turquoise Point, Afternoon Watch: 1305**

"She has to be in one of those caves," reasons Swain. "There are five with boulders rolled over the entrances." He walks over to the first boulder and braces himself, placing his hands flat against the rock's surface. "Come on you guys, help me out here."

Mike rushes towards Swain through water that's over his hips. He and Swain push as hard as they can, and the rock slowly shifts away from the cave mouth.

"X! Are you in there?" ET calls as he rounds the side of the boulder and helps them push. Charge strides towards the other side, ignoring the drag on his body, and maneuvers himself next to Swain. Slowly, the rock inches away from the cave and ET and Mike run inside as soon as the gap is large enough. They flick on their torches and scan the water. Within minutes, they realize that the cave is empty. Mike curses under his breath as they roll away the next boulder, sweating in the midday sun.

"X! Are you here?" yells Swain, shining his flashlight into the dark. The beam bounces off the back of the cave. He quickly guides the beam into the water. There's no Kate.

By the time Mike, ET, and Charge move the rock away from the fourth cave, their faces are flushed and sweat is popping against their tanned skin. The waves have gotten larger and more forceful, and the tow is making it harder for the rocks to be moved.

"Did you hear that?" Mike demands, picking up a crackling cough underneath the waves. He freezes and holds up one finger for silence.

"Hear what?" Charge says in reply. "I didn't hear anything." He moves towards the fourth rock and waves an arm, gesturing for the others to join him. "Let's get this boulder away."

The rock doesn't want to budge, but some inner energy helps Mike and Charge push the boulder to the side. Grunting with exertion, they widen the gap enough that Mike can get in an out. It's a tight fit, but it's enough.

"X!" Mike stands uneasily in the opening, feeling his heart race. He hears a low whimper, so low the waves almost drown it out, and his flashlight beam illuminates a sodden figure, head drooping. Even against the dark, the blonde hair is unmistakable. Adrenaline bursts from the pit of his stomach, fizzing through his veins and spreading tingles through his blood, like trapped bubbles. His hands begin to tremble at his side and he clenches them at his fist to stay the shaking. "Kate!" he shouts, stooping to fit into the cave. "X, hang in there, I'm coming!" He turns to toss his torch and pistol to Swain and Charge. He whips off his radio and throws it to ET, hoping the technician catches it.

**Key Island, Turquoise Point, Afternoon Watch: 1307**

Kate coughs harshly, the sound like breaking twigs. It echoes in the darkness. Her fever is higher than ever, and even though her skin is scorching, she's quivering in the water. The water sits just above her clavicles. She twists her wrists back and forth against the rope, trying to slip a hand free.

A particularly fierce wave smashes against the boulder, forcing spray through the cracks between the rock and the cave. Kate squeezes her eyes shut as salty froth drifts towards her. Spurts of water hit her face and she recoils at the icy touch.

The tickle at the back of her throat intensifies and she clears her throat and swallows before hacking again. The tickle moves deeper and she gags, feeling beyond miserable. Her throat burns as bile rises, contrasting with the cold she's feeling all around her. She spits into the waves around her as tears slip from the corners of her eyes. A low whimper scratches her throat, unbidden. Her chest aches from suppressing dry coughs. She closes her eyes, feeling her eyelashes clumped wetly against her cheeks. It's like being drugged: she is aware of what's going on around her, but she can't snap herself out of the daze clouding her head. That is to say, she's perfectly alert to the fact that the tide is coming in, but the fever she's running is making her unable to do anything about it. The combination of dehydration, vomiting, and coughing has reduced her voice to a pathetic whisper, which she figured out after she tried yelling for help earlier. Something is tugging gently at her: voices are drifting outside. She has no idea if they're real or just fragments of her delirium-inducing fever. "Help! I'm in here!" she rasps, sure her voice has been drowned out by the water. "Mike, help me." The last sentence is a ragged mutter that fades to a wheezing cough. She bends forward to cough again, and a wave slaps her in the face. Panicking, she shoots upright, tilting her head back to give herself a few extra inches. The water has crawled up to the indent below her Adam's apple. The touch is gentle yet paralyzing. She hacks again, hissing in pain.

Kate didn't know the flu could cause pain like this. She stopped shivering a while ago, but she thinks she can still feel herself shaking. Somewhere, she's still lucid enough to realize that her fever has spiked and is probably dangerously high. She can tell that she only has a matter of minutes left, maybe 30 at the most. But that doesn't matter. The voices are coming closer. Light pours into the cave and she opens her eyes and uses all her effort to focus on the man standing in the entrance of the cave. It's Mike. She laughs, a low, grating sound. Salt water fills her mouth as another wave rushes in on the back of the previous one. She chokes as brine forces its way up her nostrils, stinging the entire way.

**Key Island, Secluded Beach, Afternoon Watch: 1326**

The beach is perfect. The water is a gorgeous shade of turquoise, the colour you usually see in glossy mags in a travel agency, or on a billboard. The sand is crystalline and sparkly white. Hell, if Bomber weren't so tense, she'd want to dive right in and explore the water. Apparently, Buffer isn't noticing any of this, because he immediately bolts over to where the sand has been disturbed. He takes it in for a second or three, and then begins to follow the footsteps. He sees three distinct sets of prints, leading down the beach. The smaller boot prints are clearly Kate's, and it appears she put up one hell of a fight, even in her fevered state. There are two other larger boot prints. One is larger, heavier, and more defined. It clearly belongs to the more confident man, probably the leader. The other set is blurred, like the person leaving them behind was dragging their feet.

"Are we following the trail?" asks Bomber, who's picked up on the footprints too.

"Yeah, just let me radio the boss," Buffer says. "Charlie 82, this is Papa 82, come in, over."

"Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, over," says ET breathlessly, after a long pause. "We found the X; the CO just went in after her. What's going on at your end?"

"We found three sets of footprints heading down the beach to your position, and signs of a struggle. We're making our way to you now, over," says Buffer as he snaps off his radio. He looks up and turns to Bomber. "They found the X. We're going to head towards their position and meet up with them."

Her eyes light up and her face glows. "Did they? Is she alive? I know she is! Let's go!" She takes off on a flat-out sprint down the beach despite her full Kevlar weighting her down. Buffer smiles to himself as he follows her.

**Key Island, Turquoise Point, Afternoon Watch: 1325**

ET jumps back in order to catch Mike's radio as it flies at him. To make things worse, said headset crackles to life in midair and startles him. He grabs it out of the air and quickly puts it on to respond, "Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, over." He takes a breath and continues, "We found the X; the CO just went in after her. What's going on at your end?" At Buffer's response, he nods and grins, and then radios Nav.

"Bravo 82, this is Charlie 82, come in, over."

"Charlie 82, this is Bravo 82, come in, over," she replies immediately.

"We found the X, Nav! She's alive! The boss just went in to get her. He should be out soon, over," he says, and is almost deafened by her hastily subdued shriek, before she turns off her radio again.

Standing in the cave entrance, Mike takes a few deep breaths. The water is deep enough that he can swim in. She coughs horribly, the sound wracking her entire body. Without hesitation he plunges forward and immerses himself in the water. It closes over his head and he kicks forward hard, reaching into the front pocket of his Kevlar vest for a knife. Bubble burst from his nose as he swims forward, slowed down by his waterlogged uniform and vest. He breaks the surface next to Kate just as another wave crashes over the two of them. She shrinks against him, choking on the salt water. Quickly ducking beneath the surface, Mike wiggles in behind her and opens his eyes. The water stings his eyes and he fights the impulse to shut them as he saws at the ropes holding her. His Swiss Army knife takes way too long, and she is trembling against him. With a final hack, the ropes fall away and she pulls her hands loose.

"Hold your breath, we're going out," Mike whispers in her ear as he wraps his arm around her. She inhales and wheezes a few times before puffing out her cheeks. Using his feet, he propels them forward even as waves pound on their heads, pushing them back. His arms hold Kate tightly to him, protecting her and keeping her safe. It seems like they're eternally trapped in the middle, going nowhere. Kate's chest heaves with suppressed coughs, and Mike gives one final push against the rock wall and they're out. He thrusts her into the light as she erupts in coughs, gasping for breath. Swain rushes to her side and helps her to her feet while Mike straggles out of the cave, dripping. "Are you okay?" he asks her, relief flooding his body and leaving him as limp as a wrung-out dishcloth when she nods slightly. She follows the nod up with a groan and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"Let's get these two back to the RHIB, stat!" snaps Swain, more out of concern and worry than anger. "X, can you walk?"

"Yeah," she rasps. "I'm fine."

Swain chooses to let that obvious lie slide as the group begins their trek back to the RHIB. They wade through water that hits the bottom of Kate's ribcage. She keeps on stumbling, and every wave almost topples her into the water. After she actually goes in, Mike goes in after her and pulls her out the second the water closes over his head. "Thanks," she mutters, not meeting his eyes. Taking matters into his own hands, Mike scoops her up in much the same manner Christian did hours before. Her head falls against his chest after a brief struggle punctuated by 'put me down!'

"No can do, X," says Mike. "We'll get you back to the RHIB faster this way." He brushes her hair out of her face in a surprisingly tender gesture, trying not to start at the heat radiating off her body. "Swain, her fever is really high," he adds, turning to look at Swain for advice.

"We have to get her back to the Hammersley ASAP," Swain says. "The best we can do is try to get her dry, and get her hydrated, but she's soaked through and I'm obviously not about to strip her." He eyes her dubiously and bites his lip.

"Oh God, please don't," she mumbles, as her eyes flicker open, glossy with fever.

"Don't worry, X, I value my life," Swain assures her, patting her arm. "There's some water in the RHIB. Just hang in there, okay?"

"I can do that," she whispers, swallowing. "I can…" she trails off and subsides into coughs. Swain's face twists into a sympathetic grimace and rubs her back, snaking his hand through Mike's arms. He also notes that normally she would have fought back or told him to get off her, but she sighs and tucks herself into Mike's arms a little more tightly as she begins to shiver again.

Mike has never been happier to see the RHIBs than when they round a smaller point and the beach lays spread out in front of them. Swain, Charge, and ET take off towards the RHIBs as fast as they can, despite the hip-deep water. It feels like an eternity later when Swain climbs up into the RHIB and reaches under the seat where the shade is, and pulls out a metal water bottle. He tosses it to ET with a flip of his wrist, and ET unscrews the cap and hands the bottle to Kate, who takes it gratefully.

"Small sips, X, small sips," Swain calls from the RHIB.

"I know," she replies, taking a tiny mouthful of the water. It tastes metallic, but it's still cold. It soothes her throat on the way down, and forms a cool puddle in her stomach. Mike gently swings Kate up to Swain in the RHIB, and Swain helps her take off her waterlogged Kevlar vest.

"Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, come in, over," says Mike after regaining his radio from ET's capable hands.

"Charlie 82, this is Papa 82, over," says Buffer.

"We have the X and are back at the beach. We need to get her back to the Hammersley ASAP, so we are leaving. Meet Charge back at the second RHIB and take off from there, over."

"Understood, on our way back now, over," confirms Buffer.

"Alright," says Mike, turning to face ET, Swain, and Charge. "Charge, you stay here with the second RHIB. The rest of us will take the first RHIB back to the Hammersley."

ET and Mike clamber into the RHIB as Swain helps Kate to pop the snaps on the top of her coveralls and negotiate her way out of the sopping sleeves. ET passes Mike a blanket and holds one out for Kate, because she's trembling like a leaf.

"Don't," says Swain, pushing ET's arm down gently, "we can't give her more heat." He presses his hand to her forehead and feels the warmth there. He wishes for his little black bag, but figures she can wait twenty minutes until they get back to the Hammersley.

As Kate settles back into the bottom of the RHIB, head spinning, ET starts the engine of the RHIB and they push off, heading towards the Hammersley.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Here's another chapter. It's my second (or third) last so um, yay for me actually committing to a story for once. Sorry I went MIA for like a month; I went to camp and then another camp and then my muse kinda died but it came back so it's all good. So if you love or hate this chapter, please leave me a review because that's always appreciated and it takes ten seconds. Hope you enjoy it! :)

**Arafura Sea, Off the Coast of Key Island, Afternoon Watch: 1403**

"How're you feeling X?" asks Swain, as the RHIB speeds towards the Hammersley.

"Nauseous dizzy, cold," she says, and adds as an afterthought, "thirsty too. Water please?" She holds up a hand for the bottle, which Swain passes to her. She takes a few sips and lies back again, closing her eyes.

"Hang on; we're almost there," Swain says, with a sympathetic smile.

The RHIB hits a wave and Kate groans as she feels the water begin to slide up her throat again.

"Oh no." Swain recognizes the signs and reaches down to pull Kate into a sitting position. He grabs her wrists and tries to be as gentle as possible as he hauls her up. She leans over the side of the RHIB as Swain supports her. Mike hovers, unsure what do. He doesn't know if he should look away or rub her back or ignore it. He can't rip his eyes away as Kate spits up the water and then starts dry-heaving, looking more miserable than ever. Once she's done, she sits back and slumps against Mike. He hands her the blanket and holds it place for her, draping it around her shaking shoulders.

"Have some more water," Swain advises, proffering the bottle.

"I don't want to throw up again," Kate says, fever-bright eyes fixed on his, stubborn and steely.

"It'll be less painful if you have something to throw up," points out Swain. "Take it."

Rolling her eyes, Kate takes the bottle and removes the cap. She sighs, lifts the bottle to her lips, and allows a little water to flow past her parched lips. She winces at the touch of water in her stomach, figuring it will just come back up again. She twists in Mike's arms but he holds her securely. Nausea threatens dimly and she closes her eyes. The silence stretches out between them.

"It's too bad the drug runners got away," Swain says, shattering the quiet. "They'll be long gone by now, but at least X is safe." He smiles again, laced with sympathy and soft relief.

"They can't have gone too far," says ET with a chuckle, eyes sparkling, "I siphoned their gas when we found the tender."

"So that's what you were doing!" Swain laughs and slaps his palm against the side of the RHIB. "I just thought you were getting the serial number or something."

ET shrugs and grins. "They should be around here. The other RHIB can probably find them."

Mike chuckles proudly. "Good job, ET. That was fast thinking," he says, wiping droplets of sweat from his temples. He turns on his radio and goes to alert the other RHIB of the situation. "Papa 82, this is Charlie 82, come in, over."

"Charlie 82, this is Papa 82, come in," says Buffer, sounding a little breathless. "We just got to the beach."

"It turns out ET siphoned the fuel from the tender the drug runners used. They left from that secluded beach where you and Bomber were, and will probably be somewhere in the area. Go look for them. I'll radio Nav and see if she has a radar contact." Mike can hear Bomber's breathy shout of laughter in the background.

"Sounds good, boss. Tell the X we hope she's feeling better," Buffer says, "over."

"Bravo 82, this is Charlie 82, come in, over," says Mike in the next breath. He knows Nav will pretty much jump out of her chair to answer the radio.

"Charlie 82, this Bravo 82, come in, over," says Nav, sounding perkier than Mike's heard her in a while, despite the fact that she's been on a double watch and was supposed to be off watch two hours ago.

"We're about ten minutes from you," Mike says quickly, "do you have any radar contacts?"

"N – wait a minute, one just appeared, heading on a direct course for the island. And there's another stationary contact sitting just a few nautical miles off the island. They're on a direct bearing for each other. The second one is really small, like a speedboat or something. I just assumed they were fishermen," she says, "come to think of it, it's been there for a while. Ugh, I'm so sorry." Her voice changes from perky to exhausted in a few seconds.

"Nav, it's okay," Mike says, "you've been on watch for ten hours straight. I don't blame you for being tired. We'll be back in ten minutes, and I'll radio the other team to let them know. Head toward the first contact; maybe we can scare them away. Over." He turns on the radio to Bomber's channel and reports the coordinates, rapid-fire.

Kate coughs hard again, head spinning. Mike slides his arm around her waist and holds her close to him. Apparently he doesn't care that he might get thrown up on. Her vision blurs and slides out of focus. She hears Swain's voice somewhere above her and the words 'IV drip' and 'fluids' and 'thermometer'. "No," she slurs, "please no IV." She looks up at Swain, pleading with him silently.

"Sorry, Kate. You haven't kept anything down, so I have to give you a drip," he replies.

She folds her arms over her chest and pouts slightly, with the air of an annoyed child. "I'm seasick. I'll be fine once we get on the boat." Putting on her best XO glare, she fixes him with it. "No IV."

Swain does the best thing to do at that point: he surrenders. He puts his hands up and nods. "Okay, you win. No IV, for now. But the second you even gag again, you're getting one."

Mike sighs and rubs Kate's back through her sodden t-shirt. "It's for your own good, you know," he says, looking concerned. "Dehydration is a serious matter. We all want you to get better as fast as possible."

Kate closes her eyes as the RHIB nears the ship and prepares to be raised onto the boat deck. She presses her hand over her mouth and leans against Mike exhaustedly as the RHIB leaves the water, swinging back and forth as the cranes set it on the deck.

"You. Wardroom. Now." Swain hands Kate her things and the bottle of water and makes shooing motions with his hands. "I just need to find Spider and I'll meet you down there."

"Can I go to bed?" Kate asks, crossing her arms again. "I don't need anything but dry clothes, a hot shower, and sleep."

"I don't know how high your fever is," Swain argues. "I need to assess you before you can do anything." He darts towards her before she can escape and puts the back of his hand to her forehead. Her skin blazes beneath his fingertips. "That just proved my point," he adds.

"Go," says Mike, giving her a small push. "I'll be in the bridge if you need me. That goes for you guys too." He turns to Swain and ET with a wide sweep of his arm and walks into the bridge.

In the bridge, Nav is sitting at the console with one eye on the radar and the other on the EOD, which is displaying the larger radar contact, a fishing vessel flying an Australian flag. She turns at Mike's footsteps with a smile. "You're back!"

"Thank you so much for taking the ship Nav. You look exhausted, go get some rest," he says, moving in on her chair. "CO has the ship."

"Yes sir. No problem," she says, vacating her seat and doing a few last-minute checks.

Spider is sitting by the EOD, his foot propped up. "Found them, boss!" he says chirpily, flashing Mike a smile. "About 10 nautical miles off our starboard bow. The RHIB is closing in on them." Nav bends over his shoulder to double-check his calculations, and rubs her hand along his upper arm affectionately.

"That's great, Spider. Go see Swain," Mike orders, from Nav's chair. "He wants to check out your ankle."

"Oh, it's just a sprain, sir," says Spider lightly, moving his foot. "I can walk on it - ow!" He winces as he hauls himself to his feet and staggers sideways, trying not to put weight on his right foot.

Mike shoots him his perfected 'do-you-think-I'm-stupid-go-see-Swain' look; it's the one usually saved for Kate and stubborn younger shipmen.

"Fine, fine," Spider says, putting up his hands in defeat. "I'm on my way." He shuffles slowly out of the bridge, leaving behind a string of curses. Once he finally makes it to the wardroom, he is somewhat surprised to see Kate sitting on the table with an IV in her arm, looking more pissed off than he's ever seen her.

"How are you feeling, X?" he asks, hesitating in the doorway and hovering on one foot.

"Like shit," she says flatly, pushing her sweaty bangs off her face with her free arm. "But I'll live." She absentmindedly start tugging her IV, trying to pull it out.

Spider shifts his way over to the bench and sits heavily. The bench squeaks under his weight as he leans forward to prop his foot up.

"How's your ankle?" asks Kate, as Spider unlaces his boot and gently tries to tug it off, wincing and squinting in pain. She can see the tears gathering in his eyes. "Is it broken?"

Spider gently rolls down his sock and pulls it off. He shakes it out and puts it next to him. He surveys his puffy ankle, and pokes at it with a tentative finger, noticing the purple streaks of bruising. "I don't think so, but I could be wrong. Hurts a bit, though." He wiggles his toes experimentally.

Swain comes rushing back into the wardroom, and stops in the door. "Oh good, you're here. Spider, I'm just going to check you out and – Kate, for the love of God, don't pull that out!" He swats Kate's hand away and takes it in his. "Don't make me handcuff you," he threatens, fully serious.

He gently palpitates Spider's ankle and does some general laxity tests. When he's done, he looks up at Spider with a hint of a smile. "The good news is it's not broken, just a nasty sprain. The bad news is that you'll need crutches for a while, maybe a week, and you'll be on light duties."

Spider groans and gets up slowly. He hops towards the door and swings his way down the hallway. They can hear him shuffle-hop all the way to the junior sailors' cabin.

Swain rifles through his bag and pulls out a bottle of paracetemol, a thermometer, and an alcohol-soaked pad. He wipes the thermometer with the pad, and waves it in the air to dry before advancing on Kate with it. "Open up," he says simply.

Kate rolls her eyes weakly and opens her mouth. Swain pokes the thermometer under her tongue and waits. The silence is endless, until the thermometer beeps and Swain pulls it out and reads it. He frowns and jumps upright. "104.5. Christ, that's high. We need to get your fever down, stat." He feels her forehead again and goes over to the sink to get her a glass of cold water. Handing it to her, he pops out into the hallway and finds the closest storage closet. There's some crashing and banging, but he emerges with a gray plastic bucket and puts it at her feet with a significant look. "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."

Kate flicks her eyes to the bucket and to the IV. "Don't worry, I'm not," she says grouchily. She kicks the bucket lightly with a bare foot. It slides a few feet away from her and tips over with a hollow thud.

**Hammersley, Arafura Sea, Afternoon Watch: 1448**

Swain swings around the doorway and sticks his head into the bridge. "Hey Nav, can I see you for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure," she says, turning from the radar and walking out of the bridge. "Nav out."

"Get some rest!" Mike calls, twisting around to grab his binoculars. He focuses them and holds them up to his eyes. "We're going to send another RHIB along with backup. RO, call boarding stations."

RO stands up and heads over to the radio. "Hands to boarding stations, hands to boarding stations, hands to boarding stations," he says into it, with an extremely bored expression.

Out in the hallway, Swain stops Nav. "I know you've been on a double watch, and you're exhausted, and I feel really bad even asking…"

"What do you need?" she asks, covering her yawn with her hand.

"Look, Kate's fever isn't coming down – if anything it's rising – and we need to get her into an ice bath or cold shower. She's not going to like it, but could you keep an eye on her for 15 minutes or so?" he says, shifting uncomfortably.

"You know I'd do anything for the X," Nav replies, trying to keep awake. "I'll get down there now. Do you need me to swing by the galley and grab some ice?"

"I roped some unfortunate junior sailors into bringing ice for the X," Swain explains with a smile. "She's in the wardroom now, so I'll walk her to your cabin and you can just keep an eye on her. I'll even bring you a brew."

"I think I love you," Nav responds with a small smile as she turns and walks down the stairs to the wardroom. When she pokes her head in, she gasps quietly. She's not used to Kate looking quite so awful. Her friend's face is pallid and waxen, and has a faint glow of sweat under the bright fluorescent lights. She's trembling slightly, despite the blanket draped casually around her shoulders, and worst of all, there's an IV sticking incongruously out of her arm. "Kate!" It's a cross between a squeak and a breathy cry, but Nav runs over to her best friend and throws her arms around her as gently as possible, trying not to jostle the IV line. Heat rolls off Kate, and Nav feels it cling damply to her skin before it dissipates. "Can I get you anything?" she asks, withdrawing from the hug and surveying her. "Water?"

"That would be lovely, thanks Nikki," says Kate hoarsely, holding out the empty glass. Nav takes it and fills it under the tap, and hands it back. Kate takes a few thirsty gulps.

"You're going to regret that," calls Swain from the doorway, where he's standing with a dripping bag of ice in each hand. "You're only going to get sick again." He puts down the bags and makes his way over to his bag, wiping the water off his hands onto his pants.

"Swain, please, I haven't thrown up since the RHIB," Kate says, looking somewhat proud of herself. "Whatever you gave me, it's working."

"Mhm," Swain mumbles. "Don't push your luck." He takes out another gauze pad and unscrews the childproof cap from the bottle of isopropyl alcohol, pressing it down as he turns. He dips the bottle forward with the pad against the mouth, dampening it. He blots at the tape holding Kate's IV in place with it, and the adhesive loosens. He rips it off quickly, ignoring Kate's yelp at the prickling pain. He removes her IV quickly and efficiently and whips out the thermometer again. When the beep punctuates the quiet, he reads the numbers aloud, "104.7. It's gone up. We're getting you into an ice bath for 15 minutes."

"Not by much," Kate argues, "I feel the same: lousy."

"Go with Nav, okay? I'll check by in 10 minutes," he says, as she stands and makes to leave the room.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" asks Swain with his mischievous smile, giving the bucket a pointed look.

"Do you want me to name it, too?" snaps Kate, bending down to pick the bucket up and tucking it under her arm.

"If you really want to, you can name it _and_ keep it." Swain says it like he's doing her a huge favour.

"We'll see you in ten," Nav interjects, putting her hand on Kate's back and pushing her gently out of the room. "I'll be expecting that brew, too."

"Yes, ma'am." Swain salutes her teasingly before bending down to pick up his bag and one bag of ice. "That one, please, Frenchie," he says to the perplexed-looking junior sailor, who takes the bag and follows Swain out of the room like a shadow.

He knocks on the door with his free hand and waits, shifting uncomfortably, trying to balance the ice while tucking his bag higher under his arm so it doesn't fall, which would cause a catastrophe.

"Come in!" Nav calls, sounding deceptively cheery. She is sitting on her bed when Swain enters the room, his various bags balanced precariously, staring down at her feet, which are swinging over the side of her rack.

Swain reaches into his bag and pulls out a shiny silver travel mug, and hands it to Nav. "Here's your brew," he says.

Cradling the mug in her hands, Nav takes a sip. "Navigator brew, you remembered!" Her eyes light up as she drops gently onto the floor and bends down to check on Kate, who's lying on her side. She smoothes Kate's hair back from her face, and as she does so, Kate's eyes flutter open.

"Now, Kate, I know you're not going to like this, but it's the best way to try to get your fever down. We're getting you an ice bath, okay?" Swain says, putting down his bag of ice just inside the door. Water puddles around the bottom, and Nav fixes her gaze on the drips for a few seconds.

Kate sits up with some difficulty and swings her legs over the side of her rack. Her head swims and nausea floods over her. Burying her face in her hands, she groans. "Swain, do you have to? Can't I just have paracetemol?" she asks, pushing sweaty bangs out of her face.

Swain chuckles lightly and shoots Nav a smile over Kate's head. "Look, X, the last thing we want is you getting delirious and hallucinating. Goodness knows what you might say." His eyes twinkle as he watches as her shoulders slump and he knows he's won.

Kate gets dizzily to her feet, leaning against the table for support. Swain quickly guides her into the bathroom and helps her unsnap her coveralls. They're still damp and he shudders as she peels the clingy wet fabric away from her shoulders. He turns away as she strips down to her bra and panties, and takes the bundle of dry clothes Nav slips through the cracked door.

"Here, X, change into these," Swain says, handing her the folded clothes. He can hear her stumbling into them, and pauses before asking, "You decent?"

She grunts her assent and places her wet coveralls on the floor. Swain busies himself running her a lukewarm bath, and then sticks his head out the door. "Nav, could you pass me the ice, please?"

"Yeah, sure," she says, sipping her coffee. She puts it down on the table and picks up the bags, one in each hand. She hands each one to Swain, who opens the bags and tips the contents into the water. Kate shivers at the slushy clicking sound, crossing her arms over her bare stomach. She pulls up the strap of her sports bra a little higher up on her shoulder.

"Go on, get in," Swain says softly, whipping a stopwatch out of his pocket and setting it by the sink.

"Fine, fine," Kate grumbles, stepping into the icy water. Goose bumps prickle her skin and she sits down, submerging herself in the liquid. It soaks through her underwear and into her bra, and she begins to shiver uncontrollably. Her teeth chatter hard, and she hugs herself for warmth as Swain turns on the stopwatch. "How l-l-long do I h-have to st-stay here f-f-for?" she stammers between shaking lips.

"Fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds," says Swain, consulting his watch. "Just hang in there."

She nods dumbly, looking miserable, and closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall. She wraps her arms more tightly around her torso and wills the time to pass more quickly.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I can't believe this is the last chapter! I'm done. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've actually finished something on here, so, uh, yay me? I hope you enjoy the bad guys getting caught and hopefully some Mike/Kate goodness that isn't too mushy. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/alerted/faved. It encouraged me to keep writing. Hopefully I'll get something new up within the next week or so. If you like it, please leave a review. I guarantee it'll make my day that much better. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Arafura Sea, Afternoon Watch: 1435<strong>

"See anything?" asks Buffer, raising his binoculars to his eyes and focusing them. He scans the blank horizon intently, willing something – anything – to appear.

Charge shakes his head. "Nothing, Buff."

"Nothing here, either," says Bomber, smoothing her reddish bob. "Wait a minute, something over there. One o'clock!" She whips around and points excitedly to the light speck close to the horizon. It appears to be stationary and the two people on board are clearly visible. When the two see the approaching RHIB, they wave their arms wildly.

"Let's get those bitches," Bomber says, narrowing her eyes. She tightens her grip on the side of the RHIB and leans forward slightly.

Charge revs the engine of the RHIB and it speeds forward in the water, leaving behind a frothy trail. His entire body is tense as he keeps a white-knuckled grip on the accelerator.

"Hammersley, this is Papa 82, come in, over," says Buffer quickly, switching on his radio and positioning it closer to his mouth, having dropped the binoculars the second Bomber located the small tender. He rubs a hand along his forehead and squints at the horizon. The sun sparkles brightly on the water, jabbing at his eyes. He immediately wishes he had sunglasses.

"Papa 82, this is Hammersley. Sit rep, over?" Mike replies. The tension has mostly melted out his voice, and he sounds less like he's going to rip somebody's head off now that Kate is safe.

"We have a visual on the two men in the tender, sir, and we're heading after them now," Buffer says. "Papa 82 out, over." He cuts off the contact and gets ready for action, even though he highly doubts the two are going to be trouble.

Charge deftly pulls the RHIB close to the tender, not quite alongside. "You guys need a hand?" he asks, putting on his best friendly voice.

Christian nodded and leaned down into the boat and picked up a fishing line and rod, and stealthily tucked Kate's pistol into his waistband as soon as he was safely out of view.

"So what are you doing out here? You're pretty far out, and your tender looks barely seaworthy," Buffer says conversationally, eyeing the two up and down. The scruffy dark-haired one was clearly in charge, and also clearly hiding something. The smaller redhead was the accomplice, and looked really nervous. Buffer could tell the one in charge was probably resisting the urge to smack his buddy really hard for looking guilty.

"You're over seven kilometers from the nearest inhabited island," Bomber points out, narrowing her eyes. "What if a storm blew up or – you ran out of gas?"

"We would have managed somehow," Christian answers with a mirthless laugh. He picks up the rod clumsily and flicks the line into the water. "We could always have… swum." He takes a significant pause before the last word and looks up at them, eyes flickering darkly.

"Thank goodness for the Navy!" says Harry quickly, looking like he feels the opposite. His words end in a hint of a squeak and Bomber notices the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. It glistens in the sunlight.

"We're just fishing. I guess we ran out of gas," Christian says casually, talking over Harry. "Harry here must have forgotten to refill." He turns ever so slightly to shoot Harry a nasty look.

"Lucky we're here," says Charge, with a small forced smile. "Why don't we tow you?" He leans down and picks up a coil of rope from the bottom of the RHIB.

"That'd be great," Christian responds coolly, "except that we have another boat coming for us." He allows his fingers to drift across the surface of Kate's stolen Browning, waiting for the right time to make his move.

"We'll tow you back to the HMAS Hammersley where you can let your friends know you're safe. We do have to take you back to base though. Protocol." Buffer is equally a cool and collected, eyes narrowed as he fixed Harry and Christian with a firm stare. His gaze flicks up to the horizon, where a small, fast boat that is definitely not their RHIB is approaching from the west. As he looks, he notes that it's a light schooner, made for speed and likely with a souped up engine. It's been cleverly disguised as a pleasure boat, but he knows there's no way in hell that's the truth. He smacks Harry's tentatively hovering hand away as he fastens the rope around the bow of their tender. "Do you mind?"

"We don't need your help," snarls Christian. "I told you, our boat's coming to pick us up. As a matter of fact, there it is now. You can leave." He glowers at them from beneath dark brows and pulls out the pistol and points it at Bomber.

Her eyes widen and she freezes instinctively, before slipping her hand behind her back and into her holster. She slowly slides her Browning out of its leather holster and brings her arm around.

"Drop the gun," orders Charge, leveling his pistol at her.

"Drop it!" growls Buffer, whipping out his pistol too, and taking aim as well.

"Don't make me shoot her. I will! I got your X and I'll get her too!" Christian's grip on the gun shakes.

Bomber smirks. "Actually, we got to the X in time. Too bad, you lose." She pauses and her ears detect the distant roar of an approaching RHIB. She can't see it, but from the way the lines of Harry's body tauten, she assumes it's entered his field of vision.

"You shoot her, you'll be a dead man," says Charge, voice low and dangerous.

"Bomber," hisses Buffer, "Their boat is coming!" His eyes narrow even further against the glare of sun reflected off water. That schooner is approaching much faster than he'd like, and he wonders how he only just noticed it. The other RHIB, containing ET, RO, and Halfy, is coming up behind them much faster than the schooner.

"Christian, they've got reinforcements," Harry says timidly. He puts one hand up to shield his eyes. "Three of them. We'll never get away. How many on the boat?" He drops his voice for the last sentence, but the three in the RHIB can still hear every word.

"I'm not blind, you nitwit!" Christian shouts, the pistol shaking in his hands, sweat slicking the grips. "And there's two on the boat." He smacks his hand against the side of the tender in frustration, and the muscles in his hand contract as he squeezes the handle of the pistol even tighter.

Bomber swallows hard, her breath coming in fast spurts. Her heart is racing in her chest, so fast she feels like she's going to explode. She's trying to remain calm despite the loaded pistol pointed at her head, but it's not working. The scenes of her life aren't scrolling before her eyes like some unwanted movie. She wants desperately to close her eyes and block it out, even as she tenses for the shot, but she refuses to show Christian he's scaring her. Harry is steadily pushing Christian closer to the edge, and it terrifies her, even though she's faced death before and won. He'll put the gun down. They always do in the end.

There's a hissing intake of breath from Harry, who looks like he's bracing himself for something. "Christian, put the gun down. Their boat will get here before ours does. I'm done with this," he says quietly, tipping his head down to stare at his lap. His fingers are twisting against the rough denim of his shorts, palms slippery with nervous sweat.

"Done? Done? You can't just be done!" Christian yells, beginning to lose control. His face turns from pale to red, and then moves a few shades past to aubergine. "You came to me begging for money and I tried to help you out! I got you this gig and you can't just back out now! This is so typical; you back out just when the shit hits the fan!" He pauses his tirade to suck in a shaky breath. There's an audible click in the silence as he pulls back the bolt and cocks the gun. Whirling, he waves the pistol in Harry's direction. "I could just shoot you now, you ungrateful bastard! You always were a disgrace, but that's what comes from being an illegitimate child! You're nothing but a pathetic bastard child. Your mother was a whore!"

"Do you feel like we're caught in the middle of a domestic feud?" whispers Bomber to Buffer, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

Harry's face twists in anger and pain and his hands curl into fists. "Don't," he spits, "don't talk about my mother like that!" He hurls himself across the tender at Christian. The gun clatters to the bottom of the tender with a hollow thud and skids across the metal. There's a flurry of violent movement on the tender floor and Charge lunges across the gap between the RHIB and the tender and half tumbles into the tender. In one swift movement, he grabs the pistol, clears it, and tosses it to Buffer, who snatches it out of the air and tucks it into his holster.

Charge shifts his weight in an attempt to get back into the RHIB, and the tender tips dangerously before the edge dips below the waterline and water rushes into the small boat.

Harry has Christian pinned down on the floor of the craft, but he freezes when water laps at his hands. Bolting upright, he scrambles to the side of the tender as the boat sinks. It leaves the two of them clinging to nothing in the water. Harry panics immediately, flailing and splashing in the water. Somehow managing to navigate the few meters to the RHIB, he clutches its side. "Help!" he gasps desperately. "I can't swim!"

Buffer throws him a contemptuous look, but reaches out to haul the dripping man into the bottom of the RHIB. Charge and Bomber roll him over and handcuff him tightly, as Buffer brings Christian into the RHIB and handcuffs him.

"I guess we're done here, boys," says Buffer, as Charge clambers behind the wheel and starts the engine.

"Hammersley, this is Papa 82, come in, over," Bomber says, adjusting her Hammersley cap with a grin, "found the two without any problems, bringing them back to Hammersley ASAP. No sir, I don't think we'll have any trouble."

**Hammersley, Arafura Sea, Afternoon Watch: 1449**

"Time's up," calls Swain through the door. "You're good to get out and get ready for bed. I'm heading back to the bridge, alright?"

"Sounds good," replies Nav, from where she's sitting next to the tiny bathtub. Straightening, she hands Kate a clean, fluffy towel and extends her hand to help her friend up.

Shivering, Kate stands and wraps the towel tightly around her thin frame. "I'll just get changed then, Nikki," she says, hoping the brunette will take that as her cue to leave. Thankfully, Nav does turn and leave; she throws back a reminder that she's just outside should anything dire happen in the next two minutes.

Body shaking so hard that her teeth clack together like castanets, Kate shimmies out of the wet fabric that sticks to her skin like cling-wrap, and pats herself dry. Although she doesn't want to admit it, she does feel slightly more lucid and less disgusting than when she climbed into the bathtub full of ice. Her flannel pajamas feel fantastic against her skin, and she can't wait to just crawl into bed and sleep forever. Pulling the elastic out of her hair, she brushes it quickly and puts it up in a messy bun. She brushes her teeth and heads back into the cabin to face Nav.

"Open up," commands Nav, brandishing the thermometer like a weapon, and because Kate has zero energy to fight her friend, she drops onto her rack and lets her poke the thermometer into her mouth.

Nav hums to fill the silence until the thermometer beeps, and she rushes over to read it. "103.5," she announces with a smile. "Swain'll be pleased to know your fever went down." She pulls it out of Kate's mouth and swabs it down with an alcohol-soaked pad, before disappearing into the bathroom to wash her hands. As she returns, wiping her hands on her coveralls, there's a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" mouths Kate, frowning slightly.

Nav ignores her and opens the door. She steps back slightly and runs her hand over the top of her sleek ponytail. "Oh, hey sir. Come on in," she says, ushering Mike into the room.

"Thanks Nav," Mike responds crisply. "X, how are you feeling?" He crosses quickly to her, and appraises her with concerned eyes.

Clearing her throat, Nav turns to Kate with a mischievous sparkle in her bright blue eyes. "Suddenly, I have somewhere else to be," she says with a grin. "I'm going to go get a brew." Her smile widens as she leaves the room, with a small backward glance at the door.

"Why are you here?" asks Kate, voice rough. Oops, that came out sharper than intended. She rolls over and props herself up on her elbows, feeling suddenly ashamed of her messy bun and pajamas. A hot flash spreads through her that has nothing to do with the fever, and her midsection churns in a way that that has nothing to do with her upset stomach. She tells herself sternly that she has no business getting excited that Mike came to see her, and settles down again in her soft cocoon of blankets.

Mike bites back a smile as he places a mug of freshly brewed, steaming lemon ginger tea generously laced with honey on her desk. "As your commanding officer, I need to check in and make sure you're alright." It sounds stiff and rehearsed, and Kate knows he just wanted an excuse to come see her. Not that she minds on any level, although she'd prefer to be healthy and lucid, not flu-ridden and incoherent. He pushes up his sleeves and scootches a little closer to her bedside. "I'd forgotten how grouchy you are when you're sick."

Kate tries to glare at him, but when she pinches her eyebrows together it sends pain sparking under her skin. She winces and gives up the tough act. "Nice bedside manner, Doctor Flynn," she says sarcastically, rubbing her hand across her forehead. "And when have you ever seen me sick?"

"You had a cold once at AFDA," he replies. "I think I attempted to make you soup."

"Shh!" Kate says, catching herself just before she presses a finger against his lips. "What if somebody heard that?"

"They all know I taught you at AFDA," he says with a shrug, looking down at his boots.

"Yeah, taught and other things." Kate rolls her eyes and coughs slightly, muffling the sound in the crook of her arm. When she looks up, Mike is staring at her intently, eyes gentle and concerned. He hands her the mug, and she watches steam curl off the heated surface for a few seconds before taking a tentative sip, hoping it doesn't trigger her stomach. That would just be awkward.

"Let's change the subject."

"Alright. Thanks for um, saving me," Kate says, looking into his eyes for as long as she dares. Those words were the hardest she'd had to say in a while. Swallowing her pride was choking her and causing a lump to form in her throat. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up when you did."

"You would have figured something out. You always do. But hey, I'm just glad you're okay," Mike says, sliding the mug back across the desk once she's finished with it. "Jeez Kate, I thought I'd lost you." He resists the urge to reach out and take her hand with some difficulty, and folds his hands in his lap.

Kate swallows hard, and blinks rapidly. Tears prick her eyelids. "I don't think I've ever been that close before," she says in a low voice, "you know, to dying." She swallows again and brings her knees closer to her chest. She pauses for a moment to get her emotions under control. Her gaze flickers to the floor and she keeps it stubbornly fixed there, unwilling to look up at him. She is weak, damn it, weak. Her emotions should not be getting in the way. Running her index finger underneath her eyes, she quickly wipes away the tears before they can start to show.

Mike grabs her hand before he can stop himself and pulls it into his lap. A jolt of surprise runs through him when she doesn't resist. Her hand is too warm in his, but he relishes the contact, damp as her skin is against his. It warms his entire body with a small glow.

She's admitting she almost died. A pang of guilt runs through his chest. He can't just laugh it off with something like, "You weren't going to die," because she was going to. Would have. Mike sucks in a deep breath. "I was terrified we wouldn't find you in time," he admits, thumbing the back of her hand slowly. "But I hope you know I'd do way more than just going into a cave for you." A ghost of a smile appears on his face.

Kate is fully aware of how inappropriate this is. He's her commanding officer, for crying out loud. However, all she can concentrate on is how warm his hand is on hers. And that she never wants him to let go. Her fever is making her woozy but the only thing that feels solid is his hand. With some difficulty, she forces her eyes open. "Okay, now you're getting soft on me," she says, the words only slightly slurred. "I'm still here. Isn't that what matters?"

Mike nods, lips twitching. The guilt comes rushing back, and crashes over him like a tsunami. All of this is his fault. He's in charge, and he put her in danger. She could have died and it's all because of him. Hell, she almost died and it was because of him. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? If I'd known you were up half the night throwing up, I never would have sent you out there. I knew something was wrong, but I trusted you to make the right judgment call. I should have known you wouldn't admit you were sick. I'm sorry," he apologizes in a whisper, breath catching raggedly in the back of his throat. "It's okay to get sick. It happens to everyone."

Coughing, Kate looks over at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's just the flu. I'll be fine tomorrow. Besides, it shouldn't have affected my abilities like that." She sneaks a sidelong glance at him before lying back against the pillows.

"Kate, you threw up in the RHIB. You were completely out of it. How high is your fever, anyway?" Mike asks, removing one hand to place it flat on her forehead. He draws it back like he's been scorched and the look on his face says it all: too high.

"I don't know, like 101, maybe 102," Kate lies, as he traces her temples with his thumbs. She feels herself involuntarily relaxing under his touch, under the soft pads of his thumbs working his way across her forehead and running gently through her hair. It's soothing, and her headache is easing already.

"Really?" Mike says, raising an eyebrow. He continues moving his hands steadily across her head, trying to massage away the tension. "Swain told me it was at 103.5 last time he checked. That was after the ice bath." He throws her a pointed look. The meaning is clear: don't lie to me concerning your health.

Cursing inwardly, Kate flinches away from him at the next touch. Of course Swain would tell him that! She looks up at him, expecting to see annoyance, or something like that. The concern in his soft gray eyes is a surprise. It makes Kate feel slightly less sick, although she doubts it'll last long. She closes her eyes again and reaches for the mug, taking small sips of the sweet liquid. It feels good on her ravaged throat.

"Are you feeling any better?" asks Mike, not releasing his gentle grip on her hand.

"Well, considering I spent most of my day either puking or tied up in a cave, or tied up in a cave puking, I'm feeling much better," Kate replies, "although I'm still feeling pretty cruddy." She knows she looks like death warmed over, so why bother hiding how bad she feels at this point? She pauses for a second and her eyebrows knit and she pouts slightly. "I hate fevers." She can still feel the cold touch of the water on her body. It's enough to make her shiver once, and then twice, and then again and again. She coughs again, almost bending double with the effort.

"You alright?" Mike tucks her hot hand into her lap, and places his hand lightly on the small of her back. He drapes the extra blanket around her shoulders and she grips it tightly to keep it in place.

Kate wriggles away from his touch and then lies back again. "I'm fine." She smiles thinly and he hands her the mug again. Her tea is rapidly cooling, but the taste is enough to keep her drinking. Besides, hydration is important. Swain said so himself. All she wants is to shake off this nasty bug, because it's seriously kicking her butt and she feels pathetic enough as it is. She looks down into the mug and realizes that it's almost empty. Crap. She drank way more than she intended to. As that thought works its way through her fogged brain, her nausea comes roaring back. It hits her with all the gracelessness of being mowed down by a freight train. She heaves, rocking forward as bile rises in her throat. She fumbles beneath her rack for the bucket, before remembering that she kicked it to the door. Damn. "I think I'm going to be sick again," she says, her breath coming fast and hitching in the back of her throat. The words get caught between the liquid crawling up the back of her throat.

Mike snaps to attention in instant, gaze darting frantically about the room for her bucket, or a trashcan or _something. _"Why did you kick it over there?" he asks, like now is the time to be asking that question.

Kate moans in pain and writhes slightly. "I swear to God, I'm going to throw up on you," she grits out, tightening her grip on the side of the bed. She stands up, head spinning, and lurches towards the bathroom. She leans over the toilet and grimaces as the tea comes up despite all her efforts to keep it down. She can feel herself flushing as she detects Mike's presence behind her. He really wasn't supposed to see this. Calloused fingers comb gently through her hair, and a hand rubs soothing circles between her shoulder blades, loosening the trembling muscles. She spits into the toilet bowl, and miraculously, Mike hands her a glass of water. Kate pushes it away as her liver makes a desperate escape attempt and she buries her head in the bowl again, dry heaving.

He sits on the floor behind her, and gathers her hair, holding it out of the way. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs in her ear, wrapping his arms around her and slowly pulling her back against him. She doesn't resist, and lets herself fall limply in his arms, wiping her mouth on her wrist and reaching for the water. She swills and spits into the toilet bowl, trying to clear away the bitter taste of regurgitated tea.

"Feeling any better?" Mike asks, and Kate pulls a face at him but nods.

"I guess so." She swipes her hair out of her face and exhales slowly, still shivering. Mike holds her a little more tightly, pressing her face against his chest. He's warm, and smells like laundry detergent, salt water, and stale sweat, with traces of his deodorant. Kate breathes in his scent and forgets that she's cold and sore for a minute. His arms are so secure, and she lets herself relax.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" he asks, shifting her slightly.

"Yes please," Kate murmurs drowsily into his coveralls, snaking an arm around his waist.

With a boyish grin, Mike picks up Kate like she's a featherweight, and stands up, knees cracking. He gently carries her to her rack and sets her down, tucking the blankets around her tenderly. Her shivering eases up a little at the warmth, and Mike retreats to the bathroom to get her a glass of water.

"I should let you get some sleep," he says, stroking her face lightly. Her skin is drenched in sweat, little droplets shimmering at her temples. "But it looks like your fever is breaking." He doesn't add 'thank God' although he really, really wants to.

"You must be the best form of medicine," Kate says with a sleepy half-smile. "Thanks for everything." She curls comfortably under the covers and Mike quickly plumps her pillow and tucks it under her head.

"It was my pleasure," he replies, pulling the blanket up to her chin and setting the bucket next to her bed, even though he's sure she won't need it again. "Good night, Kate. Sleep tight." He leans down and brushes his lips ever so softly against her forehead, before heading to the door and turning out the light. The door clicks shut behind him, and Kate listens to his footsteps fading with a contented smile on her face. Maybe the flu wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
